Building Dreams and Planting Roots

PART 1 OF 3

2024 was a life changing year for us. We had some of our highest highs, and incredibly wonderful months, followed by equally lower lows. We were pushed onto an unexpected path that we are still trying to navigate. This is about the first part of that year, 8 months of it, which were filled with big plans and dreams, lots of hard work, and lots and lots of joy.

Late Spring 2024 - working on the new garden

Last year reminded us that things can literally change overnight. They did for us this past September. Looking back I’m so thankful we made it through, and our relationship, the Joey and Scott that is us, is stronger and closer than ever before - and I wouldn’t have thought it could be possible, as close and happy as we have been over the years. But pain and tragedy can also build bonds, broken bones mend stronger, and the strength that comes from resolve can translate to each other. In make-or-break situations it's possible come out with a common strength you never knew you had.

WINTER INTO SPRING - DRAWING UP PLANS & SETTLING IN

In January 2024 we were finally able to call our cabin in our 100-acre woods home. For two years we’d been building out one of our barns into a tiny cabin, keeping the beautiful bones, the post & beam timbers, the rough sawn siding, and other elements, and blending them with a modern twist and (of course for us) a chefs kitchen. Our little 600 sf haven, perched above the bold stream, Rush Creek, that runs the full length of our property. The sounds of water flowing by and over the rocks lulled us to sleep nightly.

Looking across the pond when spring is in full bloom

We didn’t know that beautiful little stream we centered so much of our plans around would turn so violent and vengeful, flexing her strength and reminding us of how much control we actually had. But that came later.

It was cold, this was winter in the Blue Ridge Mountains after all, but our little wood stove could heat our small space with ease, so much so that we sometimes had to open the windows for relief. I can become mesmerized tending to the fire, sitting for hours in front of it in one of our rocking chairs, sometimes reading, sometimes just daydreaming, but always content.

Dual purpose, warming our cabin and cooking dinner...slowly all day

We spent our days and nights walking and talking, hiking across our place and discovering new trails where overgrown logging roads made their way up and down our ridge, vestiges of clearing that took place many decades ago. We’d find little clearings, hilltop views, rock outcroppings. We explored the ridge tops, the spring cut coves, and the cliffsides that we’d not had time for before. It’s also easier to explore in the winter, when he leaves are down the trails are more obvious and the snakes are hibernating. We got to know our land like we’d not been able to do since we'd bought it 4 years earlier.

We planned out our garden, something imperative for us and always a main component of our dreams here. The hillside below our pond was the perfect spot. It faced south, ideal orientation for the sun and a garden. We’d build raised bed terraces and irrigate them from the pond above, gravity taking care of the process. Rush Creek, which fed our pond, comes down from a ridge and mountain behind us with only a couple homes above. It’s also fed by multiple springs and small streams along the way, a couple dozen on our land alone. The water is about as clean and nutrient rich as you could hope for.

The berm / dam that formed the pond (left) and the hill below where we'd build our gardens

We also laid out plans to turn another post & beam barn into a woodworking shop, where Joey could create our furniture and, down the road, build components and cabinets for the larger home we’d build one day. There would be plenty of room for all of the equipment and tools we’d need and ample space to store reclaimed wood & lumber, and it overlooked a small stream at the back and our flower meadow and planned garden from the main doors.

In February, we sold one of our businesses, the NoDa Company Store, in Charlotte. We’d opened it in 2016 and had a great run, but it was time for us to move on. We are project, concept and design people, and day to day operations just aren’t our strong point. Something we happily recognize and admit. Our hearts were in the hills and that’s where we needed to be. Letting go of this business was key to freeing up the time we were looking for.

FULL SWING SPRING - PUTTING DOWN ROOTS

The start of our terraced, raised bed gardens

Following that sale in Charlotte our intricately laid out plans took real form in March, when we actually started on the garden. We found a small sawmill a couple of miles away and ordered true 2x12 12’ white oak boards - beautiful local lumber. Heavy stuff, but durable and longer lasting than many other options (and we don’t use treated, this garden is for food). Cedar would last longer but would be a lot more expensive. We dug into the hill to cut our terraces, working from the bottom and making our way up. We became acquainted a family of woodchucks, or groundhogs, take your pick with the name, same critter.

A couple of the baby woodchucks.

Five babies would poke their head out from one of their tunnels just a dozen feet from our garden. They got so used to us that they’d eventually wander around just outside their tunnel while we worked. Lottie Dottie, our pup and the best little girl in the world, was fascinated by them, but never really did much more than stare when they were out, then sniff around where they had been when they went back underground.

Close up of Mama Woodchuck from a trail cam we set up

Native American spearpoint

One day, while digging out a trench for one of the beds, we noticed a curious white piece of stone - mostly quartz - with a distinct shape. A shape I’d come to recognize, but hadn’t seen other than in photos. I follow a few pages on social media related to plants, animals, snakes, and artifacts. I instantly recognized what we were looking at. A Native American spear point. A really old one.

I’d seen plenty of posts about these and knew the odds of them being around were decent (though more so in flat lands by rivers). But here one was, falling out of a shovel full of soil we’d just turned over. I posted on the page to get some expert input, and turned out we had what’s known as a Guilford Point, likely 5000 - 6000 years since someone dropped it here or nearby. We were exhilarated. Our connection to this place, this land, just grew deeper and deeper.

Over the next couple of weeks we brought in wood chips, compost and soil to fill the top parts of the beds and we planted spring crops - greens, beets, carrots & turnips from seed, collards, cabbage & other brassicas as seedlings.

We left for a weekend to get some work done in Charlotte. When we came back all the new sprouts and seedlings were gone. Gnawed to the ground. Turns out about the only thing equal to the cuteness of a groundhog is its' appetite. They had to go.

So we killed them all.

WAIT, no! That’s not what happened, but we did find them a new home. We bought a Have-A-Heart trap and over a 3 day span captured and moved them, one by one, about 6 miles away to a beautiful open field by an equally beautiful river. Then we added a fence around the garden, in case future visitors became interested, like this little family had.

Beside the garden, on the same hill, we added trellising and bought Concord, Muscadine and Scuppernong grapevines and planted them at the base. We ordered a few specialized faucets and hose splitters, various hoses and drip irrigation lines and installed them in the garden, along with a timer. By early summer our plants were in full swing and we were pulling all sorts of veggies from our hillside beds to the kitchen. The grapevines were high on their frames, making their way across the top. Again, we were thrilled.

THE START OF SUMMER - TIME TO GET TO WORK(SHOP)

Getting the workshop started

With the garden in place and growing, it was time to start the workshop. We shifted across the field, where we leave one large space natural, and over the past two years we’d spread wildflower seeds, creating our flower meadow. A small portion of this was also our septic field (so we can't plant any large plants or anything with deep roots). After two years of growth, mowing just once at the end of each season, and once again at the end of winter, plus adding more seeds, there were pops of flowers all over: black-eyed Susans, golden rod, bee balm, coneflowers, tickseed and other native blooms here and there that showed up on their own.

Our flower meadow

We spent a couple months, mid to end of summer, renovating a simple barn into its' new life. We took down both sets of huge swinging doors on the back and added a deck overlooking the small side stream and framed out space for sliding barn doors we'd be building.

We removed windows from the 1950’s cabin nearby and installed them to create a wall of glass facing over the meadow to the garden. The view was fantastic and they added tons of natural light. Opening them, along with the doors, created a fantastic cross breeze. We framed and installed plywood walls and brought in & installed cabinets.

From there we moved on and removed the other set of doors, what would be the main entrance, and replaced them with reclaimed glass doors we found at a salvage center.

We built wood tops for the cabinets, a rolling work table, a table saw work base, and began buying and bringing in equipment, including a couple meticulously maintained and like-new vintage pieces from the 50's.

By mid-September we were wrapping up most of these workshop projects, and began building the back barn doors. Beautiful hand-crafted cedar doors with large single pane windows on the top half. On September 25th we finished putting the pieces together. Clamping all the parts in place, clamps in every direction, setting them up for the glue to dry and the wood to cure. It would be the last component of our workshop build out, the end to a summer of projects. We were leaving for a few days, the 26th was Joey's birthday and we were meeting friends and family in Charlotte to celebrate, so we’d install them, and finish this part of the project, when we got back.

Hand built cedar doors, clamped together and set aside to cure - as of this writing they're still right where we left them, 10 months ago

These were really some of my favorite memories, not just of that year, but ever. We'd spent eight months together, by ourselves, immersed in the middle of our 103 acre paradise, visualizing and building out our dreams. Our garden was filled with food, our workshop was just about finished, and we couldn't have been more happy.

And then everything changed...

Click here for: PART II - THE STORM